


Coffee and Blueberry

by haisepuff, speia



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst Masters™, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a lot of feels tho, blame the Al also, blame the Kody, it's not that angsty, just at the beginning, nah this is canon fight me, okay i lied there'll be plenty of angst, they deserve to be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haisepuff/pseuds/haisepuff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/speia/pseuds/speia
Summary: That day when a man walked in, that day when he came back to me





	1. Watch the phoenix be reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five

The café was calm. It was raining a bit and few customers were inside. They were all silent, reading or drinking gently their coffee, having some sweets, looking by the window. Kaneki felt relaxed somehow. It reminded him of the Antique. It seemed a lifetime away, they seemed unreal those days when he barely knew how to brew coffee or to use his kagune properly. The atmosphere was serene, comforting. He should be at ease, surrounded by people who cared, finally. He should be, with his friends and memories back. He should be, but… _Kishou._ He was thinking how pleasant it would be to have the man by his side, to teach him how to make good coffee, to bake him cakes, to have him here. Just to have him here. _Kishou, I miss you._ He tried not to cry. It was painful, too painful. Arima could have resigned, Kaneki could have convinced his friends the Reaper was no threat, they could have been together. _Even if you were ill, Kishou. I would sell my soul just for another day with you._

_‘Haise.’_

He was hearing it, again. Arima’s sweet voice. Using a name nobody no longer used. _Haise._ Except for the kids, the kids still called him Haise. It reminded him of Arima somehow, made him want to cry even more. He started to sob. _Kishou!_ This was too much, this grief would never end. _Why did you do it? I don’t understand, I don’t understand, I don’t understand!_ Pathetic. Weak. Again. What a leader, what a king. A hand came to gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Hey Kaneki…” Touka’s voice was tinged with concern “What’s wrong?”

“No-Nothing…” He quickly wiped his tears away “I’m just a little tired.”

“Stop lying. It’s not the first time I see you cry on your own.”

What was he supposed to say? _I fell in love with someone you have always considered an enemy._ Touka wouldn’t probably understand, and he wasn’t ready anyway. The memory of Arima was too precious, he didn’t really want to share it with people who never knew him. Yes, it was selfish, probably. But those memories and the pin he offered him, this was all he had left of his lover. Not even a book. Not even a picture. Memories and a pin, memories and a pin, memories… memories…

“I’m sorry” he muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. But you know you can talk to us, right?”

 _It’s not like you could do a thing, anyway. Can you bring back the dead? No. And I need his voice, and I need his arms._ Touka gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder again and went in to fetch some coffee beans. She would probably make him some coffee, hoping it would help him. She was nice. They were all nice. But none of them was him. Yes, it was selfish, probably. Probably.

_‘Haise.’_

Again.

_‘Haise.’_

He rubbed his forehead. He noticed two tiny arms were strongly wrapped around his waist. It was one of the kids. Of course they knew why he was crying. They must be crying as well for the same reasons. He put gently his hands on the little ones and stroked them.

“I miss him” the child said with a trembling voice “It’s so hard, Haise. And you…”

“Come here” Kaneki patted his head and opened his arms to take the kid in a closer embrace “He’s with us” he said, rubbing the little back “As long as we remember him, he is with us.”

“Haise… will it ever stop hurting?”

_I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know._

“Yes…” Kaneki’s voice sounded distant “I swear, one day we’ll remember him and it’ll make us happy. We’ll remember how he loved us.”

 

***

 

He was washing some cups when he heard the door. A customer, at this hour? They were about to close in half an hour and he didn’t expect to see anybody else coming in today. Nishiki was the one to welcome him, he couldn’t hear the customer’s voice. And it sounded so distant… Maybe he was dreaming it after all, it was hard to tell where reality stopped and the unreal begun those days. Even the hot water on his hands didn’t feel quite real. Maybe it was because the so-called hands were scaled claws now. He dried them and decided to peer in the room, just to see if Nishiki didn’t need anything. He needed to keep his mind busy or he would start to think again.

_‘Haise.’_

_No, I’m not pushing you away. But it hurts, Kishou. It hurts._ Nishiki seemed to be doing fine, the customer was alone, in some booth by the window. Funny, that was the spot Arima always picked when they went on a coffee date. Kaneki assumed he was watching the rain scatter on the floor. Arima also found peace in the rain, he could watch it for hours straight, like hypnotized. He was curious now. Curious to know what the stranger looked like. _It’s not him._ But he couldn’t help himself.

_‘Haise.’_

He knew it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. He remembered the fight under Cochlea too well. He remembered the painful sight of Arima lying on the floor way too well. The blood. So much blood. _Stop!_ He didn’t need to remember that. But could he help it? It played in loop, the last moment when Arima tried to say his name.

_‘H-Hai…’_

He slapped himself internally. _You just stop!_ He rolled down his sleeves and put on his working gloves. He grabbed few cups with his trembling fingers and decided to go and put them back where they belong. It’d keep him busy. It had to keep him busy. He went fast behind the counter and arranged the cups on the shelf. He wasn’t facing the customer this way. It was very tempting to look over his shoulder, just to catch a glimpse of him… but at the same time Kaneki hadn’t the strength to do so. Too painful. He couldn’t afford to be disappointed now. It’d just shatter him a little more. _A king needs to be strong._

“Excuse me, can I have some refill please?”

Everything froze. The cup he was about to put on the shelf crashed on the floor, scattered in a million of tiny pieces with a distant sound. His hand stayed midair, trembling. The stranger’s voice, it couldn’t be... He was staring in blank, completely shocked. _It’s not you, it can’t possibly be you._ He slowly turned around. Maybe if he saw his face, maybe he’d come back to reality, maybe he’d be reminded of the cruel and cold truth. _You are dead!_ The customer was staring at him and Kaneki was on the verge of fainting. This hair, though it was now blueberry-like. This face, though there were no glasses on. _Kishou…_ He was hallucinating. He should be hallucinating. Those lips, the shape of his nose, the way he had to hold his book. Everything. Everything was… _Kishou!_

“Hey, are you okay?” Nishiki’s voice brought him back to reality and he just remembered he broke a cup.

“Ah… sorry about it, I got distracted.”

He glanced at him and his eyes met with the stranger’s. Those eyes… As unfocused as Kishou’s. _No…_ His heart was beating really fast and he hurt the shelf when he took a step backwards. _This is not real. This man is not him._ Nishiki was talking but he couldn’t hear what he was saying. His head was a mess. He couldn’t stop looking at the man sat by the window and this man was looking back at him, visibly concerned. _Don’t look at me like that, you’re not him._ He started to cry. It hurt. It hurt too much. Hearing his voice was barely bearable but this… this was torture.

“Kaneki, oy! Kaneki!”

 _This is not my name._ He fell onto the ground, trembling. He was losing control over himself. In the distance he could hear NIshiki’s voice call for him. His eyes were still on the man. _Kishou… Come back to me._ He cried even more, he was choking on his own sobs. _Please! I hurt!_ He realized seconds later the man was kneeled next to him, holding firmly his hands. Despite his tears, Kaneki found he really looked like Arima. Nishiki was standing aside, frozen on the spot. _Make it stop…_ The man gave his hands a squeeze.

“Breathe.” Even his voice sounded like Arima’s.

“K-Ki… Ki…”

“Don’t talk. Breathe.”

He couldn’t. He just held suddenly onto this man, whoever he was, and buried his face against his chest. He smelt like Arima as well. _I miss you._ He cried and sobbed, his breathing was erratic despite all his efforts. A hand stroked his back tenderly. In the exact way Arima used to. _Kishou._

“Calm down. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

_Yes, you’re here. You’re finally here._

“Just breathe…”

Was it a kiss on the top of his head or did he hallucinate that as well?

“Haise.”


	2. Feel me being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six

Kaneki was ashamed. Ashamed for he had completely lost in mind in front of a stranger last time. Ashamed for the man had kept coming every day since then, asking him gently how he felt. Ashamed for he could stop seeing him as his late lover. He could deal with it now the previous shock had passed. He knew he was hallucinating. He was still mourning him after all, and his death had been so sudden and violent. And, he didn’t really want to admit it, it was pleasant to see him again. Even if it wasn’t true. His cheeks were flushed each time he served him his coffee and he tended to serve it with the sweets Arima liked the most. He only realized it after but it never seemed to bother the man who always ate up what Kaneki suggested him. A pleasant dream, really. He was probably enjoying this too much, Touka had already teased him about “the blueberry-haired bookworm by the window”. Though nobody in :re never mentioned the crisis that happened few days before. Kaneki waited patiently for the man to have finished reading his chapter before he removed the empty dish from the table.

“Did you like it, sir?” He could feel his cheeks blushing already.

“It was delicious, as always. My compliments to the chef.” This voice… composed like Arima’s.

“I-I’ll let him know, sir.”

He was too shy to confess he was the one baking the pastries. He cleaned the table and brought the bill. The man thanked him, put some money directly into Kaneki’s hand and went for the door.

“S-sir, I’m sorry but it’s too much…”

“You can keep the change. Have a nice day.”

He smiled and his smile was just like Arima’s. Kaneki smiled back before putting the money into the cash register. He wanted to know who this man was. He was being really nice to him. He just wanted to know his name, he had to know his name. It was… _Such a bad idea._ But he couldn’t help himself. He quickly took his waiter apron off and said something about taking a break and dashed out to find the stranger. He looked around and saw him turn at the corner of the street. He ran to him, nervous but unable to stop himself.

“Sir!” he almost yelled and they both turned around the corner. “Sir… can I ask you… your name, please?”

His voice was trembling when he said it and it was so out of the blue. He was making a fool of himself again. _I need to stop._ The man seemed surprised, his eyes widened and he felt insecure as if Kaneki had asked him something way more personal than just his name. He never answered the question, just staring into Kaneki’s eyes as if he was too afraid to answer. _Kishou._ He really looked like Arima, it was painful.

“Are… you…” Kaneki had started to cry again “Are you… him? Are you… real?” It was too painful, he had to ask. Even if it was probably so silly the other would think he was insane. “Am I… dreaming you?”

The man sighed at first, looking away and biting his lip in shame. But when he heard quiet sniffles from Kaneki, he couldn't handle it anymore and hugged him tight, petting his hair.

"It's okay, Haise... It's real, I'm real. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you..." He held him even closer and nuzzled his hair "I'm so sorry" He felt like crying a bit as well, he felt so happy.

"You're okay...? You're really okay?" Kaneki peeked up at him, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gripped onto the front of Arima’s shirt. "You're here..."

He was sniffling and smiling, and just looking at Arima with such hopeful eyes. He honestly felt like this way a hallucination, that he'd be pulled back to reality and have questions thrown at him left and right about what he was spacing out for or who he was talking to.

"Haise..." Arima could barely helps himself and he started to kiss the top of Kaneki's head. It had been a hard time for him as well. "Haise, I..."

"I miss you..." Kaneki whispers, persuaded he was still hallucinating "Why did you left me? I... love you so much." He barely cared if somebody saw or heard him. He hurt too much. "I miss you..."

"Haise, I am here now. I'm here... I'm... I'm back… if you want me. I... I missed you so much as well."

Arima tilted Kaneki’s head up, looking at him as tears formed in his eyes as well. He could see him still, vision not completely gone yet. He could barely see out of the other though.

"I'm here... you're not dreaming."

His smile was trembling and he leant forwards, catching his lips in a hesitant kiss, not caring if some of Kaneki’s colleagues could see them at the moment. Kaneki was crying still, trying not to sniffle as he felt Arima’s lips against his own. It had been so long, he had missed the feeling so much.

"Kishou..." He murmured against his lips, wrapping his arms around his neck.

 Kaneki deepened the kiss. It felt real. So real. He didn't care if this was a dream or a hallucination. He didn't care. Kishou was here. He didn't care and his fingers were running softly in this blue hair. It was soft. Like he remembered. He was hesitant and insecure. But he felt Arima's hands gripping more on him.

"Haise..." Arima whispered when they parted. "Haise..." He said again as he couldn't believe it himself. He stroked his cheek tenderly and Kaneki put his hand on his.

"I'm too happy, Kishou."

"Me too..." His eyes seemed a bit unfocused when he looked at Kaneki's face "Can I still... call you, Haise?"

Kaneki let his arms rest around the back of Arima’s neck, fingers playing gently with his blue hair. It looked cute on him, like a little blueberry.

"Of course" Kaneki answered after a moment, smiling softly "I... truthfully, I like Haise better... and, hearing you say it makes me feel so much better."

He let his eyes close for a moment, and he let out a breath.

"You know my real name... who I am, what I am now... and I'm... I'm not the same Haise a-as before..."

He stuttered a little, nerves rising again. He hoped Arima wouldn't be disappointed.

"I, I wish I could be though. I want to be your Haise again, I don't feel like myself with this name attached to so many other things. Haise... I'm Haise. Can I still be your Haise?"

Kaneki sniffled softly again, risking a glance at Arima again, who was now cupping his cheek gently and looking at him with a soft expression.

"Please, Haise... I couldn't call you by any other name. You're..." Arima looked down, blushing "You're still Haise to me."

"Your Haise" Kaneki dared to answer and he blushed too.

They kissed again. They were less insecure now, happy to be into each other's arms again. They were a bit eager even and Kaneki even dared to slide his tongue inside Arima's mouth. He needed to touch him. More. More. It had been too long. He had almost forgotten how Arima tasted. So good. So sweet. Delicious. More. Just... More.

"Kishou…" Kaneki panted softly, continuing the kiss, feeling Arima press his tongue against his in return.

He wanted more, to feel him again, taste him. But... they were still just outside. He pulled Arima closer, deepening the kiss until neither could breathe. They were both panting, looking at each other through half lidded eyes when they parted.

"I love you, Haise." Arima spoke up quietly, letting his hands rest on Kaneki’s waist.

"I love you too, Kishou. So much..."

His heart was swelling, this was all too much, but he was so happy. He didn't care that he had felt so sad and desperate after Arima’s supposed passing, all the pain he felt, he didn't care anymore. Kishou was back, that's all that mattered to him.

"You know..." He spoke softly, gently stroking Arima’s hair. "The blue is cute. I miss that pretty white, but this is nice, really. And... you look so pretty without glasses. Contacts I'm guessing?" Haise brushed his thumb under his lover’s eye gently, smiling softly.

"Y-yes..." He looked down. Despite those he couldn't really see. He couldn't really see Haise's pretty face anymore. But he was sure it was as bright as it used to be. "I need to hide from CCG, from ghouls... I have to make them believe I'm..." Dead. Really. That was painful, even to say. "Haise, I..."

"Kaneki? Where do you hide? We've got customers."

That was Touka's voice. She sounded angry. Kaneki sighed as he nuzzled Arima's chest tenderly.

"I'm sorry, Kishou. I need to go before they find you out." His voice was trembling. Letting him go after all this time. It hurt. But that was needed. To protect Arima until... Until they found some way. "But you will..."

"I'll come here again, Haise." Arima petted his hair again "You make the best coffee after all."


	3. Losing my sight, losing my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four

His mind, and the Haise in his mind tried to tell him to get up, go outside, to not give up.

It took a while really, but he eventually succeeded to kick his own butt semi-out of his catatonic state. _Haise, I…_ He wasn't sure what to do for a few hours, but managed to get washed and dressed, tucking his poofy scarf around his neck without risking a glance at the scar again. He had this idea of the coffee shop, Haise took him once, and he liked it, Haise loved the booth by the window, he could always watch the scenery and people walk by from it. But at the time, Arima had felt uncomfortable there because of his 'Reaper title' and he could feel all the eyes of the ghouls on him.

But no one seemed to recognize him now, and he didn't have a strong or dominating composure anymore, he seemed harmless. Just tired. And something in his mind gave him hope that maybe, just maybe he'd see him again, even if it hurt. So he found his way there, thankfully not walking into any busy streets or getting hit by any cars, since he was still a bit out of it. He was still a little stumbly, and seemed very tired to anyone else, but he was just trying to fight off the rest of his catatonic state.

He couldn't fully do it though, and slumped down into the booth Haise liked. His mind being vulnerable, he imagined how happy Haise was in coffee shops, how he'd babble about how relaxing and comforting the feel of bakeries or coffee shops were for him, and the sparkle that lit up his big curious eyes, and… Arima started crying, quietly, trying to keep to himself in his little booth. But people notice, though, they weren't sure whether to approach the sad looking man or not.

Now Arima was in the café, looking at the pouring rain by the window and hallucinating Haise in front of him. He had tears in his eyes when Nishiki came to take his order but Nishiki didn't point it out. He felt a bit sorry for that guy, though he reminded him of somebody. But he couldn't tell who. This man also made him think of Kaneki, Nishiki wondered if they hadn't already came here when he was still Haise. He tried to be careful, the man seemed really sad, a bit like Kaneki, to be honest.

And Arima tried to apologize, carefully wiping at his tears, but he struggled still, his lower lip quivering. It was so hard not to cry, he missed Haise so badly, he just wanted to hear him babble about books or sweets, anything. He just wanted him to come back. The waiter almost seemed impatient, but he assumed that since he was crying still, the man must have been at least a little concerned.

"I'm... I'm sorry." Arima managed, taking the sleeves of his grey sweater and wiping at his eyes.

"I didn't mean to start crying in your coffee shop... but it just... I… I lost my lover" he sniffled, barely managing to speak full sentences.

"P-please pay no mind to me... I'm sorry for causing any disturbances," he was honestly not sure how he managed to speak all that with out blubbering more, but he hoped it was enough.

"You shouldn't be apologizing..." The tone didn't match the waiter's almost annoyed face "Losing the one you love is quite a harsh time. Make yourself comfortable, okay? I'll bring you coffee."  

"Th-Thank you." 

The man left and Arima was alone again. Alone... That was painful. He looked by the window and watched the rain drops scatter on the street. He always liked the rain, it always brought him at peace for some reason. Few tears escaped him but he stopped crying soon, almost hypnotized by the water spreading onto the floor, the people rushing not to be wet, the sweet sound of the water. He barely noticed coffee was put in front of him. He was just watching the rain. He remembered how Haise liked walking in the rain, protected by this big umbrella of his, with Arima by his side, hand in hand. The streets were always so silent when it rained. The only sound that could be hears was the drops on the umbrella. And Haise's sweet laughter. Arima took a sip at his coffee. It tasted like Haise somehow.  

"Haise..." he whispered, trying not to cry again. "Are you really... here?"

Arima gently held the cup in both of his hands, blowing on the beverage gently to cool it off enough to sip.

"Warm..."

He whispered to himself, and for a moment, he thought he could see Haise's gentle, loving hands place themselves over his own, gently brushing his thumb across his own. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, and he looked up, expecting to see his lovers warm smile. But... as usual, nothing was there. He was alone in that booth, always alone. A sigh escaped him, and his eyes shifted down a little, a sadness overflowing through his whole body. It felt like a thick fog, weighing him down. He wanted to crawl back into bed, feel Haise's delicate fingers brush through his hair again...

"Come back..." He murmured softly as he took a small sip of his coffee, and a warmth spread through his chest.

It tasted just like Haise's coffee, and before he knew it, tears were dripping down his cheeks again.

"Haise... I'm tired" he whispered, glancing at the Little Prince book he just brought with him.

Sometimes he wondered how much he was willing to hurt himself. He knew the answer already though, as much as needed to still feel Haise's warmth by his side. _I'm pathetic._ He flipped few pages of the book randomly. As if he could read with his deficient sight and all those tears in his eyes. But still. He knew the story by heart, after all. He didn't quite need to read anymore. He sipped more of his coffee. It really tasted like Haise's. Like Haise. If he closed his eyes, maybe. Yes, maybe he could pretend. But the cup was empty and so was his heart. He waved to the waiter who was cleaning some table. 

"Excuse me, can I have some refill please?" 

The waiter nodded and Arima heard a cup break in the distance. Some commotion, someone breathing heavily. He took a look. White hair. Eyepatch. His hands were gloved. _Haise_. No, not Haise. _Kaneki Ken._  

"Hey, are you okay?" That waiter's voice. 

"Ah... sorry about it, I got distracted." 

And Haise's sweet one. Not "his", not Kaneki's. Haise's. Arima shifted to take a better look at him. Just a look, just a glance. It wasn't like the boy could recognize him anymore, was it? But Arima internally wished he could. Maybe this was all but a dream after all.

It wasn't a dream. Those eyes. Haise's. The way he had to take a step back, the way his back hurt the shelf. It reminded him... _It's painful._ Haise's crises. _Too painful._ Those outbursts of anxiety. _Haise!_ Despite the contacts his eyes couldn't still focus very well. His sight got blurry again. _Haise, I'm here!_ He should do something, he should get up and wrap his arms around the boy like he always did. He should make him feel he was here for him. But this waiter was here, trying to help him already. Arima felt left over, Arima felt like he didn't belong. _This is not true_... Haise was crying. _Not Haise..._

 _"_ Kaneki, oy! Kaneki!"  

Haise fell on his knees. It was too much, Arima couldn't just watch him from afar. _Haise, I..._ Haise was looking at him. His eyes. His eyes were pleading, begging him. He recognized him. Arima was sure he recognized him. Of course. Such a simple dressing wouldn't lure the man he was in love with, the man he had been intimate with. He could dress differently but his gestures were still Arima's. For he was still Arima after all. As if he could pretend not to be in a situation like this. He couldn't. He rushed to the boy, kneeled by his side. It felt so familiar it hurt. 

"Breathe" Arima spoke quietly. Haise looked at him. His heart broke. 

"K-Ki... Ki..." Haise was trying to say his name. His _name_. It was painful. Really painful. But he couldn't let Haise say his name. His cover would blow up.  

"Don't talk. Just breathe." 

It hurt. It hurt when Haise buried his face against Arima's chest. It hurt when Arima stroke his back. It hurt. Haise smelt still like the Haise he knew. Not "him". But Haise. Haise's scent. It hurt.  

"Calm down. I’m here. I’ve got you." Arima felt like a fraud. _I love you, Haise._ "Just breathe…” He shouldn't do that, he shouldn't give him that kiss on the forehead, but... _How bad I love you_... “Haise.”


	4. On those shoulders of yours there are strong wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One

Everything was dark... where was he? He couldn't tell, couldn't remember. His consciousness was fading in and out, but he remained laying there, in that field of flowers. _What happened..._ his head felt foggy, and he felt so tired. His eyes clenched tight for a moment, pain surging through his head, and his neck. _No._ He felt his body tense up. _No, no! I can't... I was supposed to..._ His fingers twitched, and soon he could feel his fist clench.

_That's right, I... I was supposed to die._

Arima could feel sensations return to his body as he began to wake up, not that he wanted to. Slowly, Arima lifted his arm, opening and closing his fist a few times before he gently touched his throat. _So it really happened..._ Arima’s lips parted and a soft sigh escaped. There was a scar forming, he assumed, judging by the rough skin. _But how did I survive?_ It felt like the wound had closed up, but how? He wasn't a ghoul... but he did have some ghoul in him.

_Did I regenerate...? I don't have those abilities though... but what else could have happened?_ Arima’s eyes slowly opened after another moment, and he let his hand rest on his throat.

_I failed... I didn't die..._ He bit on his lower lip, tears welling up in his eyes and fogging his vision.

_I just wanted... I thought it was over._

He was crying, tears rolling down his face. _What do I do now...?_ He wiped at his face, sniffling softly. _I can't go back to them... I can't. But I can't go to him either, he just saw..._ Arima’s eyes shut tightly. _Shit... I really messed up..._

He tried to get up. His body felt so heavy, he could barely sit, his head was spinning. He couldn't really see either, it was like his eye condition had worsened. _Why am I alive?_ He managed to touch the cut on his throat again, it seemed like the blood had coagulated already, it wasn’t healing more. _I shouldn't have been able to heal_. He had to get out. He had to get out before somebody noticed he was still alive. Or he would have done all this for nothing. He couldn't get up. His legs were weak and he fell onto his knees when he tried to stand. _Haise!_ Calling for him in such a situation, what kind of a fool was he?  

"Hhh..." He tried to talk, tears escaping his eyes. His voice died in his throat. His mouth was dry. He was afraid he couldn't talk anymore. Why was he afraid of such thing? He was a dead man, wasn't he? He should get out. He should really get out. Yes, but what of his body? Will the CCG declare him dead if they didn't find it? But he couldn't stay, he was alive, his heart was beating in his chest way too well. _Haise, I failed._ Get up, get up, get up. Really, the Reaper was probably pitiful to look at. 

He lost his grip on reality for a while. He was out when he came back to his senses. In some narrow street. How would he escape? He had a CCG uniform on, he was obviously wounded. What could he do? How could he escape? He was alone. All alone. _Haise, please Haise_. He should wait for the night. He should steal some clothes. He wasn't really proud of himself, though... _Haise, I don't want to die._

 

He managed to survive for a few days. How? As if he could tell. He remembered nothing. Money, he needed the money. He had made savings for Haise’s dream of bakery. He never told the boy though, he wanted it to be a surprise. He felt wrong to use the money he had planned to keep for Haise, but he needed to live… right? _Haise, I don’t want to die._ He was grateful he used an alias for that bank account. At first he just didn’t want the CCG to know he was saving money. It turned out quite useful, in the end. He remembered he had used the name of Sasaki… like Haise’s. It was such a common name but it made him smile at the thought all the same. Sasaki Kishima. That was the name he used. The money. There was enough of money for surviving few months in a cheap apartment. He needed to survive. _I don’t want to die, Haise._ When he opened his eyes, the room was all white. It smelt peculiar as well. No mistake was possible. He was in some hospital. _So this is how I managed to survive…_ He couldn’t remember anything still, the shock perhaps?

“Ah, you woke up finally.” A voice joyfully spoke next to him.

It belonged to a woman, a young woman, maybe in her twenties or early thirties. A nurse, obviously. She was smiling at him. It demanded him tremendous efforts to be able to smile back. He didn’t even remember how he had got here. _Think, Kishou._ He should be careful, a single false step and the CCG would find him. He managed to run a lazy hand in his hair, it seemed softer than usual. His body was very heavy.

“How do you feel, sir?”

Sir? No name? Of course, he hadn’t any ID on him. But it also meant they didn’t call the CCG to identify him. Why? It surprised him, calling the CCG was part of the procedure when a wounded agent was admitted. Maybe he hadn’t the uniform on anymore, when they found him… whoever _they_ might be.

“What am I doing here?” His voice was really weak.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Sorry…” He looked and made a gesture to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. But he hadn’t his glasses on and just ended up being awkward.

“Are you looking for this?”

The nurse extended him his spectacles. When he took them he realized something was wrong. Those glasses were round. "His"? No, not "his". "His" were left at Cochlea anyway. Haise’s? But what was he doing with Haise’s glasses? They were supposed to be in Arima’s closet, preciously hidden. Did he pass by his apartment? But that was so dangerous. And reckless. True, he hadn’t been himself lately but still. He put them on. He wasn’t really seeing. Well, even with his own glasses on he wasn’t really seeing anything anymore.

“Do you remember what you were doing before you blacked out?”

“No, sorry… I just lost my lover, you see and apparently since then I’m doing… things I don’t even remember.”

Why was he so talkative? It wasn’t really like him. Well, he wasn’t really like him anymore. That Arima Kishou died at Colchea. He was Sasaki Kishima now. Sasaki Kishima could be talkative, that wasn’t a big deal. Maybe he’d feel better if he spoke a bit about it, to be honest. He played nervously with the blanket between his fingers, staring in blank.

“Do you want me to seek for a doctor?”

“N-No…” He couldn’t see a psychiatrist. What if he said too much? What if he put himself and Haise in danger? No, that couldn’t be. Arima Kishou was dead, he had to be forgotten, only Sasaki Kishima remained. “I guess I just need to rest…” he added.

“Okay. We’ll keep you another twenty-four hours to make sure you’re doing okay, right? And I’m sorry, sir, but could you fill in those forms? We haven’t found any ID on you and…”

“I understand, it’s needed” he extended a hand to take the sheets she was holding in her hands.

 

**Full name:** Sasaki Kishima

**Birthdate:** was he silly to put Haise’s instead of his?

**Social security number:** that one was troublesome, he only knew Arima’s… and Haise’s. And couldn’t use any of them

**Medical background:** he just wrote ‘glaucoma’, the nurses will soon realize his eyesight was a mess after all

 

He put down the pen, trying to find a solution to the social security number issue. He could play the I don’t remember card for a while but soon he had to come up with something. Thinking straight was hard, Haise’s smiling face was intrusively flashing in his mind. _I miss you. I hope you’re doing okay, as a king._ He rubbed his eyes, he felt like crying again. That wasn’t fair. Haise had become too unreachable. _We were so close… and now I can’t even watch you be._ He got up to the little bathroom of his room. He was about to pass some water on his face when he realized something was wrong with his hair as well. It wasn’t white. It was blue. Blueberry blue. He touched it. Did he dye it? This could explain why it felt so soft. He was looking like an entirely different person with Haise’s glasses and his hair color. This made him want to cry even more. _Haise… I’m afraid. What’s happening to me? I don’t remember._ He wrapped himself in his own arms as tears started to escape his eyes. _What else have I forgotten? I’m so afraid. Haise, I’m so weak without you._


	5. The shapes of the dreams you hold in your arms come to life within you

The stay at the hospital did him good, Arima was almost surprised. He had basically slept all the time but the bed was warm and he obviously needed to rest. The nurse had been very kind to him, very present and comforting. She never mentioned the still-healing wound on his neck. She was probably assuming he attempted suicide, and she was assuming right. His life wasn't at threat, this is probably why they never talked about it. They talked about Haise though, she asked a lot of questions. It did good to Arima to speak about him. It was painful as well and he cried several times. It was part of the mourning process, the nurse told him. But Haise was still alive somehow. But so unreachable now. _He's a king. And I'm a dead man._ Being out was very weird, his head felt dizzy. For a moment his mind went blank and he completely forgot what he had to do. 

"Money, Kishou..." His own voice sounded so far away "You need to go to the bank." 

The money he saved for Haise's bakery. He needed it now. To find some apartment to stay in. To live in. _Live..._ That could sound strange but he didn't want to die. He never wanted to. He started to walk, more by automatism than anything. He was thinking about Haise. _To live... alone?_ Could he do that? He wasn't so sure. He needed Haise, he needed him so much. He would be at loss without him. _I should have died._ This was wrong, so wrong. _I don't want to die_. So so wrong. _I should have died. I don't want to die! Haise!_ Arima walked silently, looking down at his feet. _I really should have died._ He tried to shake his head off the thoughts. _Focus, Kishou. Go to the bank, get the money._ It seemed simple enough, but he came to a realization.

"I can't access it without my card though." He let out another heavy sigh. "Did I leave it there...?" Arima was mumbling to himself.

He had to turn around though. _Great idea, accessing an account with out a card or any ID._ He bit on his bottom lip. His mind was still foggy, and he felt confused, everything was still so surreal.

_I'm alive._

_You can go back, get the card, then leave again. Don't stay, don't stay. They could find you._ Arima told himself mentally as he began walking swiftly down another road, a small bit of panic creeping its way up his back. He was scared, what if his plan didn't work? What if he failed again? But he tried to think about Haise instead, keep his mind busy. _You wanted a bakery, Haise. I was going to help you get it..._ His mind slipped, and his thoughts remained on Haise. _One day, I promise. But for how...Haise, I'm sorry, I need to use the money._ Before he knew it, Arima was in front of the door to his old apartment.

"Home sweet home..." He gave a slight laugh, shaking his head. This place, it had only been home when Haise was there, but even still, it would have remnants of the past, and strong reminders of his lover. Really, he wasn't sure if he could handle it.

The key was hidden under the rug before the door. This trick was so old and known he was amazed nobody ever broke into his place. Like he cared now. It wasn't his home anymore. He was careful, making less noise as possible. The neighborhood had always been very calm but you never are too careful. He went straight to his desk, trying not to think about Haise too much. He felt like the flat still had Haise's smell somehow. This was silly, he knew it. He found the bank card in some drawer. He looked at it for a moment. Such a little piece of plastic. And it had the power to allow him to escape all this. _Haise..._ This wasn't supposed to be used for him. _Haise, I'll make money again. You'll open this bakery. Just... wait a little more okay?_ His sight was getting blurry. It took him some time to realize he was crying. 

"I'm sorry..." He sobbed very quietly "I should have died..." 

He put a hand on his desk and sat for a little while. _Go away!_ He leaned down on the seat and closed his eyes. _It's dangerous, go away!_ That had been a good thing to open this account online, nobody knew who he truly was. Even the papers were sent to some postbox located downtown. He felt very tired all of a sudden. _I'm silly, I don't even have to go the bank._ Habits. Arima wasn't used to this bank account. It was only savings after all... _I need to get up. I need to leave_. He looked around, he felt nostalgic for some reason. It hurt. It really hurt. If he closed his eyes he could almost... 

"Haise..." he whispered. 

Almost feel the boy's hand playing with the bangs on his forehead, poking his face when Arima frowned. Hear his voice laughing, telling him he loved him. Taste those lips against his. _Haise, I..._ That wasn't real though. But it felt way too real. _Haise, how can I live without you?_

When he came back to his senses he was outside again. In a narrow street. He couldn’t tell how he ended up here but the truth was he did. The neighborhood was gloomy, probably the type of place where trafficking of any kind was held. Like he cared now. On the contrary that was probably the best place to stay if he wanted to hide. It wasn’t hard to find some crappy apartment, with the needed furnitures. The price was a bit too high for such a crappy place but Arima didn’t bother to argue. He wanted to be alone. He was tired. He was tired and he wanted to sleep.

The apartment might be little, a bit uncomfortable and other things but he was surprised how clean it was. Yes, he agreed to the price, yes he could pay several months in advance. The owner never asked him any detail. It was obvious she was doing it only for the money. And who was he to blame her? _Haise, I…_ He fell onto the bed. Buried his face in the first pillow he could grab. He started to cry again. _I’m weak, I’m really weak._ He should go out, buy some food, buy some clothes. Now he had money… he should. But he took off his glasses instead and closed his eyes. He was too tired.

“I should have died…” he managed to whisper with a broken voice between two sobs “I really should have died there.”

_No._

Haise’s voice. It sounded like Haise’s voice. But it couldn’t be. Haise wasn’t here. Haise wasn’t even existent anymore. Haise was Kaneki Ken again. Haise had become unreachable. And Haise thought he died so it was probably for the best if it stayed this way. Ken needed to be king, a strong king.

“I’m just a burden now…”

He started to dissociate. He was speaking but barely heard his own voice. It was faint, distant. As if it belonged to someone else. But he was alone in this little shitty apartment, wasn’t he?

_No._

The voice again. It definitely was Haise’s this time. There was no mistake possible. How it trembled with rage and sorrow. Arima felt guilty somehow, making Haise sad again. He was a terrible boyfriend, always had been, right? _Stop thinking this way!_ Ah, he really going insane after all. Or maybe he was truly dead. Maybe he was truly dead and this was hell.

_I love you!_

“Me too, Haise, me too.”

It was painful to feel Haise’s little but strong body against him. It was more painful as he knew he was imagining all this. But it felt pretty real to him. And pretty good as well. Comforting. Nice and warm. It made him want to cry even more. Haise’s scent felt real as well. He was going mad. He was definitely going mad. He needed to sleep now. Close his eyes. Maybe it would hurt less. He clenched his fists and teeth. Wasn’t it supposed to be all over? Wasn’t he supposed to free? So why… why did it hurt so much?

“I… I am…” his voice was trembling. Never the Reaper’s voice sounded so weak and broken. But he wasn’t the Reaper anymore “I am… sorry.”

He didn’t even know why he was apologizing. Perhaps for being still alive. Perhaps for being unable to keep the cold mask on. Perhaps for just being afraid to die. He didn’t even know. It hurt in his chest. And the warmth of Haise’s body, his arms around his waist, his sweet scent, his comforting voice… none of this had even felt this real before.

 

_Sleep, Kishou._

_Sweet dreams._

_I’ll be watching over you._

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue  
> Enjoy the ride


End file.
